


Two Puppies Fall In Love

by Boeing



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, First Time, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-25 07:06:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13829040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boeing/pseuds/Boeing
Summary: Alistair and Surana spend their first night together after Alistair's declaration of love went a lot better than he had been anticipating.





	Two Puppies Fall In Love

**Author's Note:**

> i needed more baby gay bottom alistair in my life so i buckled down and wrote it my damn self. although "buckled down" is probably not the right way to put that since the first draft i made for this fic on ao3 got deleted... a month ago
> 
> i've been working on this fic on and off for the better portion of three months and to be honest? i've reread it so many times with such a critical eye that it doesn't even get me hot anymore lmao
> 
> "two puppies fall in love" was my working title for this fic since i started writing it and i just... got so attached to it that i couldn't bring myself to change it

There was no such thing as a “normal” day for Surana and his companions, but some of them could be described as uneventful in comparison to others, particularly when they were doing nothing but traveling from place to place. Having been in the Brecilian Forest for the past several days, they were now travelling, quite literally, across the length of Ferelden to get to Orzammar, which was almost a two weeks’ trip in and of itself if they went in a straight line. Which, in order to avoid the spread of the Blight, they were not.

Aside from the fact that they’d be walking for hours and hours and days and days, Alistair was quite looking forward to the time they would be spending away from werewolves and blood mages and Dalish elves who could probably kill him with just a simple glance. Sure, there would probably be darkspawn attacks to deal with, but he could do darkspawn. Blood mages? Not so much. He probably would have been a really shitty templar had he actually gone through with it.

That thought made Alistair's gaze turn towards Surana, who was walking at the head of the group. He held some large tome in hand, his eyes scanning the pages much faster than someone probably would if they were actually absorbing a single word they were reading.

Surana wasn’t a blood mage, that wasn’t what connected the two separate thoughts— but it made Alistair think about what would have happened had they met under different circumstances (surely, meeting under different circumstances might have been nice, but there was something about sharing a near death experience that had really brought them together that Alistair had to be grateful for). If Alistair had been a templar, would they ever even have talked to each other in the Circle? Surana might have hated him, just for being a templar, the lock on the door between him and any sense of freedom. Alistair would have been trained to hate him— or a part of him— just for being a mage. And an elf on top of that. It was almost painful to think about, what could have been… the way he felt now, it just felt impossible that he could have felt any other way. 

Friends? Brothers in arms? Something like that, but with a little extra on the side. Did Surana have that same little extra? Alistair couldn’t know, and he was too afraid to ask in just casual conversation, lest it happened to ruin whatever relationship they did have. Surana was a playful flirt and a bit touchy when the two of them were alone, and they both felt open to talk about whatever troubled them with each other, but he made no moves when they were around anybody else, which was painfully often. Alistair didn’t really know what that meant. Didn’t know what any of it meant, really. He wanted to tell Surana how he felt; he wanted to take him to bed, but it would be his first time doing anything of the sort. How did he even know he liked men? Alistair had admired women before, and men, too, but only on a surface level… this went deeper than that. 

Sure, Surana was the definition of what everyone seemed to think elven beauty was… lithe, smooth-faced, straight nose, toned but lean muscles, and long, dark hair, often braided. But Alistair found himself thinking less about those things (but still definitely thinking about them) and more about the small details he noticed about the man… the way he bit his bottom lip whenever he read the suspenseful parts in a piece of fiction. The way he laughed, light and airy. The way he undid his hair each night and did it again every morning, without fail. The way his fingers moved deliberately whenever he cast spells, in and outside of battle. The way he stayed calm in the face of angry, spiteful people, and how the hate he received never changed his mind about helping those who thought they didn’t want it from an elven mage. The way he looked at a map… it was almost as if Alistair could gaze right through them and see the gears turning inside his brain, witness every methodical process.

Alistair couldn’t imagine what Surana would think of him if he watched Alistair as closely as Alistair did him. He’d see him stare off into the distance. A lot. Maybe watch him pick his nose once or twice, or go bow-legged trying to loosen his pants in the groin. He was not, and could not be, as… perfect in everything he did in the same manner as Surana. He didn't want to set him up so high on an imaginary pedestal, but it was pretty hard _not_ to, what with all the elf had going for him.

Alistair had tried to avoid the word love on the off chance that whatever he felt was fleeting, but it persisted. It could not be ignored any longer. He was head over heels for the man… a downward (upward?) spiral that began the moment they met. Surana was gracious in all the ways Alistair was not— how could Surana even start to humor a fool like him? 

Mind racing, Alistair found himself in yet another pit of anxiety that he had hand-dug himself. He had to confront this— why not today? He was prepared, regardless of what Surana’s response would actually be. It was just all about picking the right words, which was, unfortunately, one of the many things he was notoriously bad at doing. 

Still lost in the recesses of his mind, Alistair tripped over a log and stumbled, finding himself alone when he finally came back to reality. When he looked behind him, several of his companions were laughing, having stopped in their path and watched Alistair keep walking.

“We’re making camp here for the night,” Surana said between chuckles, motioning to a large clearing a ways off the path they had been walking.

“Oh, right. Yes, of course,” Alistair muttered, rejoining the group to help unpack tents and other camping supplies. He spent the whole time doing so taking occasional glances over at Surana, making up conversations in his head about what would happen when Alistair finally did… say something.

This wasn’t something he wanted to take lightly. Despite all of the internal humor and degrading comments about himself, he really, really wanted his confession to turn out for the best… it was just his naturally pessimistic side insisting it wouldn’t. He had done everything he had thought of that would potentially woo the elf, finding out Surana’s preferences in offhand ways so as to not give away his intentions before he finally went through with it.

The sun began to dip below the horizon, turning the sky a deep orange (which was Surana’s favorite color). Zevran was in charge of dinner for that night, and he was preparing fresh cuts of venison (which was Surana’s favorite meat) with carrots roasted directly over the flame (which was Surana’s favorite vegetable… root? Root vegetable?). Alistair watched Surana for much of the evening, who was clearly satisfied with the meal and was having a good time talking and making jokes with the rest of the group (save for Morrigan, who was tucked into her corner of the camp, as per usual). Alistair sat across the fire with his own food, eating slowly. He wanted to inject himself into the conversation, but Surana and Leliana seemed to be talking about things that Alistair couldn’t really follow because of the occasional whisper cutting up the rest of it. 

Zevran surprised him a bit when he sat down next to Alistair, his signature smirk gracing his face as he looked through the flames at Surana, who paid little attention to either of them, completely engrossed by whatever Leliana was saying. “You are all ready, my friend?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Alistair muttered, putting another carrot slice in his mouth.

“I would tell you to be confident, but I’m afraid that might scare him with how out-of-character it is for you.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m being serious, you know. Be yourself. You... have your own kind of charm. It’s the charm of a bumbling idiot, certainly, but I can assure you that Surana will find your a puppy-dog look attractive if you present it in the right way.”

“And what way is that?”

“Hmm… think of it like this— what traits of dogs do humans find attractive?”

“I.. I don’t know. They’re… cute, I guess?”

Zevran sighed. “No, I mean that they are loyal and dedicated. Show Surana that he is special to you, that you want him, and nobody else. That he is the star that you orbit around.”

“That sounds incredibly cheesy. Especially if it’s coming out of my mouth.”

“Cliches would not have become popular if they did not work, my friend,” Zevran said, winking as he stood and rejoined the other two on the opposite side of the campfire.

Alistair sighed, turning around to look over at where Surana’s mabari, Tiberius, was joyfully digging around in the dirt, which was always the first thing he did when they made camp in a new place. “What I would give to have your simple dog brain,” he muttered to himself. “You’re loyal. You’re dedicated. You’re cute. Am I cute? I hope so.”

One after another, Alistair’s companions began to finish their food, bid the group good night, and retire to their tents. Wynne and Leliana were among the first, while Zevran was always dead last… save for tonight, when he gave Alistair a knowing glance as he walked to his tent, leaving him and Surana alone at the dying campfire, darkness beginning to settle at the edges of the clearing around them. The elf glanced at him, but said nothing; Alistair swallowed and took a couple steps towards him.

“This day has been quite the change from what we’re used to, hasn’t it?” he said, fingers nervously working the hem of his shirt behind his back. Starting the small talk was the worst part.

Surana chuckled, nodding in agreement. “As much as I enjoy all of the excitement we’ve faced in our daily lives as of late, I also enjoy the calm. It leaves time for the more domestic things that I’ve missed out on.”

“Such as?”

“Many things, but sewing and knitting, especially. I have a couple of projects that I’ve been working on.”

Alistair could not have created a perfect opportunity if he tried, and he seized it. “Really? I have something that I have been working on, too, as a matter of fact.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I’d love it if you, um, came to my tent so I could show you.”

The corner of Surana’s mouth twitched just momentarily, so fast that Alistair doubted if it actually happened. “Alright,” the elf said, snuffing out the campfire with a brief flick of his wrist. “Lead the way.”

Alistair swallowed thickly and nodded, slightly surprised that it had been that easy. He started walking towards his tent, which he had deliberately set up a little farther away from the others than usual, in case it came to… that. He crouched down and passed through the flap first, waddling over to where he had left his pack with Surana’s gift inside of it.

Surana followed, taking a seat on a stray cushion that hadn’t made it onto Alistair’s bedroll, eyes gazing at Alistair intently as he dug around in the bag. Finally, Alistair let out a short _a-ha!_ as he located the small box, pulling it delicately from the bundle of socks he had been keeping it safe inside. He tried to conceal most of it with his hands as he turned around to present it to Surana.

The elf’s head cocked slightly to the side as he took the box into his hands, carefully opening the top and peering inside. He gasped aloud when he laid eyes on his gift; it was a lightly bejeweled talisman, bearing the symbol of Surana’s preferred school of magic with tiny transparent orange gems engraved around it in a ring. The whole charm was about the size of a coin with an adjustable chain.

“Alistair, this is— it’s beautiful,” Surana said, eyes looking back up to meet the other man’s in wonder. “Where did you find such a thing?”

“I made it, actually,” Alistair said sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. “But I’ve been picking up the supplies here and there as we’ve been traveling. It took me awhile to get everything and then finally put it together, but… I’m pretty satisfied with how it came out.”

“I love it,” Surana murmured, turning it around in his fingers and gazing longingly at the back of the talisman, tiny lettering with Surana’s initials in the center. “Thank you, Alistair… this is— it’s amazing. Thank you, really.”

Alistair let out a sigh of relief, happy that Surana was satisfied with his gift. “Of course. It was the least I could do, especially after—” he started to say, but he was then cut of with a muffled gasp as Surana leaned over and captured his lips in a kiss, long but gentle.

Surana pulled back after several moments, eyes fluttering open to meet Alistair’s slightly surprised looking ones; upon seeing his shocked expression, the elf’s brow furrowed. “Was that not— appropriate?” he asked, backing up a little bit. “I just thought that, you know—”

“No, no, no, it was… fine,” Alistair said, moving forward to close the distance. Then, lowering his volume, he whispered, “Perfect, actually.”

Surana smiled then, reassured, and resumed the earlier kiss with enthusiasm. Alistair had kissed before, but this felt entirely different than anyone he had kissed before— there was more _feeling_ behind it, in every sense of the word. Alistair didn’t only feel the other man’s lips; he was acutely aware of the heat being shared between their bodies, his smell, and the texture of his robes every single time Alistair brushed against them, unsure of where to put his hands.

Eventually, the elf helped him with that; he took Alistair’s hands in his and settled them over his waist, then brought his own up to wrap around Alistair’s neck. They stayed like that for many minutes in blissful silence, save for the quiet noises of clothes shuffling and wet lips being pressed together. 

Pulling away reluctantly, Alistair’s gaze drifted down to meet the elf’s, whose hazel eyes were almost black with how blown wide his pupils were. Letting out a contented sigh, Alistair began to speak, thinking that this was the best moment to spring the confession on him. “I…” he started, then trailed off, looking down. He sucked in a quick breath. _Now or never_. “I’ve had feelings for you for quite a long time, Surana, but I’ve never really been sure how to approach them before. You’re not only gorgeous, you’re also creative, and understanding, and intelligent, and driven by what you love, and… and so many other positive adjectives that I had lined up in my head and am just now forgetting,” Alistair murmured, his gaze averted due to embarrassment.

“Alistair…”

“And— I— I would also like to be more intimate with you, Surana. I mean— as long as that is something you want, too. But I just— I just want you to know that, if you do want to… sleep with me— ever, not even if it's just tonight— it would be my first time doing anything like that with anybody.”

Surana was not nearly as astonished as Alistair had expected him to be (or he just didn't show it); instead of being repulsed by the notion, the elf instead cupped his cheek in one of his hands, apparently having sensed he other man's uncertainty, and said, "Mine, too."

"I... really?"

Surana nodded.

Alistair let out a small, involuntary laugh, releasing some of the nervousness that he had pent up inside of him. "I'm... a little surprised, to be honest. It's hard for me to believe that nobody has ever expressed any interest in you before."

"Well... there _were_ , but I turned them down,” Surana admitted. “Such relationships in the Circle were generally frowned upon, though no solid rule was in place against them— as long as they were between two mages, of course. But I was cautious, so… I never really had the opportunity to ever share another person’s company, though there had been many times I wanted to."

"Huh. I can't decide if that makes this situation better or worse, if it all. Neither of us knows what he's doing," Alistair said jokingly, but it was followed with a quiet sigh. "But, if you did, that would make me look even more like an idiot than I already do, I suppose."

Surana chuckled, one hand tentatively exploring the contours of his Alistair's jaw. "You're not an idiot, Alistair," he said. His eyes never once pulled away from the other man's face, occasionally flickering up to look into his eyes. "I'm so glad that my first time is going to be with you."

"I… is that a… _yes_ to what I said?"

"Of course," Surana said, smiling; the anxiety was slowly dissipating from both his and Alistair's movements, moving inches closer together as they continued to speak nothing but the truths of two in love. "I love you, Alistair. I’ve always been attracted to you and your personality since we met, I merely didn’t…” he sighed. “I’m not really sure. I thought that the time and the situation weren’t really appropriate to confess feelings like those, but it has been bothering me, and distracting me. So… I’m glad that you said something first. I would have, eventually, but… I’m glad I didn’t wait.”

“Wow. Okay. I just— wow.”

“Is something wrong?”

“No,” Alistair quickly assured him, shaking his head. “I’m just… surprised, and relieved, but also feeling a little foolish for having doubted myself for so long. I was so afraid that you might have misunderstood or reacted badly, not because that’s something you would do, but just because I… you know.”

“Well, I can definitely assure you that I wouldn't have said yes to such a... _suggestive_ request if I had not been fully aware of and wanting to do what you intended."

Alistair blanched a little bit. "Suggestive? Did I ask it suggestively?”

"No, not really, but the connotations behind asking someone to your tent after everyone else has already retired for the night are... inherently sexual, to say it bluntly."

"Oh, well, I—" Alistair paused, searching for words; Surana covered his mouth with one finger, shushing him. Alistair began to blush, his cheeks warm under Surana's fingertips.

"No need to try and... I don't know. Apologize, or try to justify it. I found it rather endearing, really.”

"I'm glad someone appreciates it."

They both fell silent after that, gazing intently at each other’s faces; Alistair’s eyes traced down Surana’s neck, imaging himself peppering kisses in a line over it, imagining how smooth his skin would feel against his lips... the elf closed the distance between them while Alistair was caught staring, kissing him open-mouthed. Alistair gasped a little bit into it, his back arching to meet the other man’s mouth; he began to tug insistently on the mage’s robes until Surana finally took the initiative to climb into Alistair's lap so the taller man did not have to bend over, wrapping his legs around his waist and deepening the kiss.

They were clumsier this time around, the rising sense of need apparent; their noses bumped together each time one of them moved his head, and teeth clicked when they touched lips. They broke away only when Surana could not get sufficient air through his nose and needed to breathe, near silence falling between them aside from the cooing of a bird— an owl, maybe— from somewhere outside the clearing.

Surana opened his mouth, feeling like something should be said, but found himself with nothing to say... every option that came to him was either irrelevant to the moment.

Thankfully, Alistair did not have such reservations; realization dawned on his face in the midst of the quiet, and he suddenly twisted his upper body around to reach for the same pack he had pulled the talisman from adjacent to his bedroll. "I have something else, too," he said, clearly waiting to clarify until he actually got said something out of the depths of his bag. It did not take him long to find it, and when he did, he held it up so that Surana could also see it; it was a small, dark-colored bottle, cork still sealed in the neck. "I, um... bought this scented oil the last time we were in Denerim. I thought you might like it."

Surana took the bottle into his hand, turning it around to look at the label. "Lemongrass?" he asked, one eyebrow raised in intrigue.

"Yes. I remembered you saying that you liked the smell of it when you burned it, so I thought that it would probably help mask the stench of my bedroll when we, well—"

Surana pulled Alistair into yet another brief kiss, interrupting him mid-sentence (was that a hint that Alistair talked too much?); his lips smiled against the other man's, feeling his heart literally swell with all of the affection he had for him. "Thank you, Alistair, for remembering something so... trivial. It means a lot to me." Glancing again at the bottle, Surana recognized that it was rather large, so he didn't think it was pure extract; however, it was in their best interest to make sure. He had worked with essential oils with some of his spells during his time in the Circle, and putting something so concentrated anywhere near his groin sounded like a really, _really_ bad idea. "This is distilled?"

"Yes! Yes. I, um... made the mistake of getting one that wasn't, originally, but Zevran helped me sort that out."

"Zevran?" Surana questioned, eyebrow raising further in confusion. "Was I mistaken in thinking the two of you do not speak much personally, much less go to market together?"

"Yes, well..." Alistair let out a long exhale, looking down sheepishly. "He had a bigger part in this than I'd care to admit, but I think it was for the best. Without some of the knowledge he so... _lovingly_ imparted on me, we'd both probably come out of this situation extremely dissatisfied, since I know absolutely nothing about... making love to someone else. Especially other men. But this is, of course, assuming that he wasn't messing with me the entire time."

"Well..." Surana began to say, considering. "The oil seems like a good, honest start. You must know more than I do, so... I suppose I can trust you to take the lead?"

"Yes... yes, absolutely. I... kind of liked what we were doing before, so..." Alistair mumbled, leaning in towards Surana's mouth to continue the kiss, but his hesitancy to fully take charge of the situation was evident to Surana. 

"It's okay," he whispered, cupping the sides of Alistair's face in both hands. "I want this. I want you. I promise I'll tell you if you're doing anything I don't like, okay?"

"Okay," Alistair repeated, nodding. "Okay." He grabbed Surana's chin in one hand and pulled him in until their lips met, barely brushing together at first. Surana's mouth opened and let out a dreamy sigh, eyelids fluttering shut. 

Just from kissing, Alistair could feel himself getting harder, pressing uncomfortably in the crotch of his pants; Surana’s arousal was evident too, rubbing up against his thigh between the many layers of clothes separating them; when they shifted every so often, friction would cause him to rub up against the grainy texture of his underclothes and force his breath out in short pants. Surana, and everything about him, was gorgeous: the way Alistair felt his breath against his lips and neck, the way he kept his eyes closed while they kissed but still seemed to see Alistair completely, and the way his hair, normally put up in a bun with two small braids feeding into it, began to fall out, long strands of brunette hair falling over his shoulders and down his back. 

Running his fingers down his chest, Alistair ached to touch him, if not for just a fleeting moment. He felt his own skin getting hot underneath his clothes, what with the warm weather combined with how much personal space they were sharing. “Can I take your robe off?” Alistair asked, some uncertainty in his voice; he wasn’t sure if asking was being polite or being too forward.

Surana nodded, letting out a shaky breath; Alistair thought he might be nervous, but Surana was very enthusiastic in giving his permission. “Maker, yes, Alistair,” he breathed, leaning back so that Alistair had better access to his clothing.

Acknowledging this, Alistair immediately went to work, fumbling with the clasps running down the front of Surana's robes and over his chest; it was clear that he was trying to take things slowly, but impatience was getting the better of him. Surana took his hand in his, pulled it away, and began to undo them himself, allowing for the top part of his robes to slip off his shoulders and bunch around his waist.

Surana made to remove his robes entirely, but Alistair stopped him, pausing to take in the sight of such a wide expanse of skin that he had not yet seen on the other man. His skin was such a wonderful shade of brown, still soft and smooth as if he were just born yesterday. He knew it to be because of his lack of sun exposure outside of the Circle tower, but Alistair simply stared, dumbstruck, nonetheless. Growing restless, Surana undid the belt keeping the robe up on his hips, letting the garment fall to the ground around his legs.

Having been briefly awakened from his reverie, Alistair shuffled onto his bedroll, pulling a nearly naked Surana with him and kissing a line from under his ear and down his neck. His fingers explored the expanse of his chest, occasionally running over one of Surana's nipples, already sensitive with arousal and now hardening from being exposed to the air.

Gently pushing back against Surana's chest with one hand, Alistair motioned for him to lay down on his bedroll, which he had embellished with a couple of extra pillows and a thick blanket to try and disguise the fact that they were lying on the ground, outdoors. Not the most ideal situation, surely, but the lulls in their mission never happened to occur whenever they actually did get access to real beds.

Surana slowly lowered himself down, moving his robes off to the side while he did so, leaving him in just his underclothes. Once he was finally settled with his back against the cushions, propping him upright, Surana looked up at him expectantly; Alistair took this as a sign to hook a couple of fingers under the waistband of Surana's underwear and pull them down his legs, but Surana stopped his hand with his own halfway through the motion, intertwining their fingers. "Can you... take off your clothes first?" he asked, sheepish gaze flickering between looking at Alistair’s mouth and looking off to the side.

Nodding, Alistair sat back a ways so he could start to lift his tunic up off of his head, revealing his torso; he had gotten more toned as of late, what with all of the sword-swinging, but his stomach was still relatively soft… he loved bread and cheese too much for that to every really go away. His pants came soon after, and then his underwear, joining the rest of their clothes in the small pile in the middle of the tent; he was shy about getting naked in front of anyone, not just Surana, but he was able to overcome that anxiety so that the elf didn't have to do so first. 

Surana was very conspicuously taking in the sight of Alistair’s cock, which sat thick and half-hard against his leg. Alistair gulped, unsure of what the other man was thinking; instead of voicing those thoughts, however, Surana made to pull down his own underwear, splaying his legs out to the side and revealing himself to Alistair.

The elf wasn’t nearly as girthy as Alistair was, but his cock was long; Alistair could imagine it hitting the sensitive places inside of him so nice that he could only graze with his own fingers, and he let out a low whine. He bent down to give Surana a chaste kiss, but his face stayed close to Surana’s after he pulled away. “So… do you—” _Wow, how did he word this?_ “Do you want to… be on top, or do you want me to?”

“Oh, I…” Surana blushed, brushing some hair from his face. “I thought that perhaps you had already planned to be on top, since you got all of the advice from Zevran.”

“Well, I mean, I prepared for... anything, really. I just thought it would be better if I asked instead of just assuming and going on ahead. So, if you do, or if you don't, I’d be just as ready— it's up to you.”

“I… do want to, actually,” Surana admitted. “But I don’t really— I don’t really know what I’m doing, is all.”

“That’s okay. I’ll tell you what to do, alright?”

“Alright.”

Alistair smiled, pecking him on the lips again. “Okay, here. Get up, and I’ll lay down.”

The two of them quickly traded places, leaving Alistair laying against the bedroll and Surana kneeling above him. The elf grabbed the bottle of oil that had lay abandoned while they kissed near their now-discarded clothes, pulling out the loosened cork. He knew as much to cover a couple of his fingers in oil, rubbing over Alistair's hole as he further exposed himself to him.

Alistair had to admit, even just the feeling of one finger pressing lightly against his ass felt really good, especially because it wasn't him doing it. Surana scrutinized his face, looking for any signs of discomfort, but didn't see any; he slowly pressed one finger inside up to the first knuckle, working it in and out of Alistair's entrance until he could slip his whole finger in without any resistance. "Are you doing alright?" Surana asked as he did so, pausing in his movements momentarily.

With a nod of confirmation from Alistair, Surana experimentally started prodding at Alistair's asshole with a second finger, which almost greedily accepted the intrusion; Alistair groaned and readjusted his hips so that Surana could achieve a deeper angle inside of him.

Surana continued with two fingers for a good long while, taking instructions from the other man to crook his fingers and tease against that spot inside of him that made him have to stifle his voice in order to prevent the others from hearing what they were getting up to. When the elf pulled his fingers out in order to apply more oil, Alistair let out a low whine and pulled another pillow under his head so he could have a better look at what Surana was doing. "I think I'm ready," he said, heavy blush evident on his cheeks.

"Are you sure? We could do one more finger first."

"Well, I—" Alistair started, the redness in his face impossibly darkening. "I already… do this myself, anyway, so I think as long as you use enough oil…"

"Alistair…" the elf said, his voice chiding. "Are you getting _impatient_?"

"Me? Never."

Surana giggled and sat back on his heels, using the spare oil he had already gotten from the bottle to coat his dick rather than his fingers. "Alright, I trust you on this. Just— let me know if it hurts or it's uncomfortable, okay?"

Alistair nodded wordlessly, his focus already pulled elsewhere as he watched Surana stroke his cock with oil, already fully hard. His own cock twitched with arousal against his stomach, but Alistair had to will himself not to just bring himself to completion while watching the elf jerk himself off. He was… _gorgeous_. That same thought crossed his mind every few seconds, without fail, until Alistair couldn't think of anything else. Surana even seemed less bothered by Alistair's staring, now, not pausing when he noticed his intense gaze on him.

Surana shuffled forward between Alistair's legs, spreading more oil over his hole before pressing the tip against it. The two met eyes, some unspoken conversation passing between the two of them during a short period of hesitation before Alistair said, "I'm alright. Are you alright?"

"Yes," Surana replied, almost breathlessly. He used one hand to brush his own hair out of his face, gaze wandering down the length of Alistair's body. "You're so handsome, Alistair…"

The blush returned back in full force, covering almost the whole expanse of skin over his face and torso from embarrassment. "I was just thinking the same thing about you, coincidentally…"

Chuckling, Surana leaned his body over Alistair's, their chests not quite touching, and bent in for a kiss, which Alistair gladly met. "Are you ready?" the elf asked, taking his cock in hand and realigning himself with Alistair's entrance.

Alistair was just about ready to die from the suspense of getting to feel Surana's cock inside of him, _finally_ , but he was happy that Surana was being so cautious nonetheless. "Yes," he answered, figuring he didn't have to tell the other man to go slow at first. If anything, he was going to have to tell him he could be just a tiny bit rougher once Alistair got accustomed to his size.

As if almost sensing Alistair's anticipation, Surana said no more words as he pushed the head of his cock past his stretched entrance, causing Alistair to let out a short grunt— okay, yeah, Surana was definitely thicker than two fingers. It didn't really hurt— everything was very well-lubricated and slipped together nicely— but he definitely made his presence known. Surana hesitated, not even halfway inside, but Alistair just nodded to signal to him to keep going. He couldn't stand waiting anymore.

Surana's own breathing hitched as he continued to fill Alistair up until he was balls-deep inside the other man, the tightness and warmth encompassing the whole length of his cock making it hard to not just outright moan so the whole damn camp could hear him. 

Alistair shifted his hips just barely with Surana fully inside of him, hitting him in that spot that he had been teasing with his fingers before while preparing him; Alistair threw his head back and suppressed another groan in his throat, so much pressure already built up inside of his core that made his cock strain with impending release.

"Move," Alistair said, wrapping his legs around Surana's waist, pulling him closer, deeper. He realized a split second after he said it that it sounded too much like a command, so he remedied it by adding, "Please. When you're ready."

"Okay," Surana breathed out, propping himself up with both hands next to Alistair's head. He leaned in for another brief kiss before starting to pull out until only the tip remained, thrusting about halfway back in.

It felt good— so, _so_ good. He felt full— fuller than he could ever get with just his own fingers— but not full enough after experiencing the feeling of having Surana fully sheathed inside of him. Surana began to pick up a much swifter rhythm as they both adjusted to the sensations over the course of a couple of minutes, since this was still very new to both of them; he went in gradually deeper with each thrust until he was consistently hitting that spot inside of him that made Alistair fall to pieces. 

Mere minutes passed by with just the sounds of the two men's labored breathing and slap of skin against skin. Every so often, Alistair couldn't help himself from involuntarily tightening his hole around Surana's cock, causing the elf to mutter out uncharacteristic expletives and deviate his pace from regular to much more erratic very quickly. The grip he had on Alistair's shoulder tightened slightly, and he whispered next to Alistair's ear, "I'm close."

Without replying verbally (though he might have grunted or moaned or something of the like), Alistair reached down between the two of them and grabbed his own cock, jerking himself roughly as Surana continued to fuck into him; the uneven pulses of pleasure being rocked through his core and down to his extremities weren't enough to bring him over the edge alone. With his other hand covering his mouth, Alistair let out a surprised shout as the sheer intensity of his orgasm washed over him like a tidal wave almost immediately after he began palming the head of his dick. Surana's name was on his lips the whole time he was coming, a mantra, grounding him as the rest of his body felt like it was floating three feet above the ground.

Surana's release followed not long after with him pulling out of Alistair's ass and spilling his seed onto his stomach, moaning into the pillow next to Alistair's head while the other man caught his breath beneath him. Once he was finally finished, he couldn't help himself from collapsing on top of him, head resting on his chest, rising and falling. Alistair moved so this new position was comfortable for the both of them, wrapping his arms around the other man and hugging him closer while straightening out his stiffened legs.

"Was it… alright?" Surana asked after a moment, pushing hair behind his ears and tilting his head to look up at Alistair.

"More than alright," Alistair said, not being able to help laughing a little bit at the uncertainty in Surana's voice after the elf had heard him beg for him not minutes earlier. "Maker, it was…"

"Amazing?" Surana offered, grinning. "Because I thought so."

"Of course. Just like you."

"Oh, stop it with the flattery."

"You should know that I can't promise that," Alistair mumbled, yawning. "If I'm being completely honest, though, I'm about ready to sleep, which will force me to stop. For the time being."

Surana snorted. "I'm tired, too, but…" he trailed off, lifting himself off of the other man, both feeling the cooling stickiness of their combined semen across both of their stomachs. "We're… kind of… gross."

"I thought of this, actually!" Alistair said proudly, then stopped slightly short as he reached over to his pack. "Well, Zevran did, in truth, but I don't want to give him _all_ the credit, you know?" He pulled out a small rag and a canteen of water, dampening the cloth before using it to clean the two of them up— at least, as well as he could with no soap or running water. They could always properly bathe in the morning.

The sun had already descended well below the horizon, and they still had to march in the morning; both of them were exhausted after their love-making, too.

Alistair tossed the rag somewhere off into the dark recesses of his tent and resigned to take care of it later. Now, in that moment, he had a rather affectionate elf cuddled up at his side, and he wanted to take full advantage of that situation. He rolled around until he was facing Surana, their noses bumping together as he did so. "Sorry."

"Mmph," the elf huffed indignantly. "Maybe if you kiss it, I'll feel better," he said, unable to hide a cheeky grin pulling at the corners of his mouth.

Alistair smiled back, and pressed a huge smooch to the tip of Surana's nose, following it up with a bunch of smaller ones over his forehead, cheeks, and down his neck, mumbling an _'I love you'_ after every single one; he held him close with both arms as Surana tried to smother his laughter and push away. It took a few moments for his giggling to stop after Alistair finally relented, reaching up behind his head to take what pins and ties still remained in his hair. "Hey, Alistair, I just remembered something I think you should know."

"Hm? What's that?"

"I love you too."

**Author's Note:**

> unmentioned advice zevran also gave alistair: wash out ur bootyhole
> 
> drop a comment or a kudo if you enjoyed!


End file.
